An Thou Lovest Me
by A'isha Ishtar
Summary: "Mercutio. .."She stood tall as she could.  " If thou truly lovest me,   then …  let our lips now meet as the land and the sea caress each other …"  "Blushing pink as the soft horizon, "  he murmured,   closing the break between their lips. Mercutio/OC
1. Chapter 1

**OK... well, I read Romeo and Juliet when I was in ninth grade, and I started a story about it. Never really got around to making it a real story, I just sort of liked the idea. But then I looked back on it (it wasn't even that long at the time) and revised it. I think it's pretty good.**

**I've told my ninth-grade English teacher (she's still my favorite and we're still friends, yay!) about it. I've recounted most of it to her, and she seems to think it's a good idea. She liked how I changed the plot around and added twists.**

**First chapter happens the night before the big ball. *realizes what she just said* ... Damn it. STOP LAUGHING AT MY WORDING!**

**Anyway, it happens before the gala thrown by the Capulets. Romeo, would you please do the honors?**

**Romeo: Of course, milady. Lady Ishtar does not own the play which tells the story of me and my Juliet. Thank you for reading it, though. :)**

**BEHOLD MY NEW FANFIC!**

**... Are you beholding yet? *messes with a PS2 controller and a screen slides up from the ground* There! NOW behold!**

**... I will say this, however: it was a bitch keeping all the Elizabethan language in line. The way that "An" is used in the title, it means "If". Please tell me if I got anything wrong! Enjoy!**

-xxx-

_An Thou Lovest Me_

-by A'isha Ishtar-

-xxx-

Violet Capulet considered herself to be a fortunate young woman. Her parents had died when she was fairly young (her mother, Maria, dying when she was about six, and her father, Alessandro, dying when she was nine) and left her with only her older brother, Tybalt. She was very lucky they'd found someone to care for them. Their uncle and aunt, the Lord and Lady Capulet, had taken her in. They, along with the Nurse, had made sure that Violet had everything she needed - and wanted. Because she was living with them, she grew up (since the age of nine) with her cousin, Juliet Capulet. She was three years older than Juliet, being sixteen years of age.

Officially a woman, by the shockingly low standards of Verona, Italy, where the Capulets made their home.

Being a legal adult frightened Violet. She was scared. She had no husband, nor beau… she was lonely, and she had never gone anywhere outside of Verona, and she spent most of her time with Juliet and Tybalt.

The last few days, Violet had not left her room. She did not talk to the Nurse (if anything, she offered a curt "Aye" or "Nay"), and she refused to see neither Lord Capulet nor Lady Capulet. She was very upset about the upcoming masked ball her aunt and uncle were holding. She did not want to go at all, though she was sure Tybalt would find some way to force her to go. She didn't want to go because seeing all the happy couples dancing, and most likely kissing, would only make her unhappy and jealous.

"Dear cousin," came a voice, Juliet's silvery bell tone, outside Violet's door. "May I enter?"

"Aye," Violet answered, lying down on the bed and staring at the stark white ceiling.

So the beautiful cousin with hair in between the lightest wood and the darkest earth, and the eyes bluer than the sea, came bounding into the room. A smile rested on her lips, as always; Juliet made an effort to always be happy, which Violet often appreciated. In truth, Violet had always been secretly envious of her cousin. Juliet was so pretty, and Violet was so… plain. She was different. Her hair was not fair, like Juliet's; her hair was pure black, and had not a curl or wave to flirt around. And her eyes, unlike Juliet's, were green - an uncommon sight in Italy. "Good morrow, cos!" she greeted, bouncing on the bed beside Violet. "How doth this fair day find thee?"

Violet managed a weak smile for Juliet. "Well met, dear cos."

"Thou look'st not in delight, Violet." Juliet slouched down on the bed, propping her head up by putting her fist against her cheek and having her elbow on the bed. "This day is to be much rejoiced! Thou art alive, is thou not, cos?" She jumped up and gestured to the window. "The sun bathes thy room, is it not so?" Sitting again, she put a hand on Violet's shoulder, looking concerned. "Thou dispatch all manner of joy and communication - it is three morrows now that thou hath been so heavy." She let go, easing back into the soft mattress. "What makes thy heart so silent, cos?"

Violet sighed, putting her hands over her stomach and glancing at her most trusted friend - for even the bond she had with her own brother could not compare to the bond she shared with Juliet. "I fear that mine keeper, my brother Tybalt, will pray that I attend the ball morrow e'en, and… thou might find this to be quite silly, but… I have no will to go. And, I have no gown, besides."

Juliet offered a giggle, covering her mouth. "I beg forgiveness for mine amusement, cos."

Violet crossed her arms across her chest. "I shall shun that, good Juliet."

"But thou should'st attend!" Juliet finished, wringing her hands in thought. "Thou might discover romance."

"And suppose that perchance, simply perchance, I do not e'en _seek_ romance, cos?"

"Oh, methinks thou dost." Juliet's demeanor became serious, though her eyes sparkled mysteriously. "I canst see it in thine eyes, my cos. Thou desires to possess a lover to hold, to kiss in heat of passion and night, to make sweet rest to until all the world stands still around thee—"

"Thou plague me with nonsense and disgust, cos!" Violet groaned, tossing a pillow at Juliet. "Begone, then," she mumbled, glaring at nothing in particular.

Juliet crawled over, enveloping Violet in a concerned, sister-like embrace. "Dear cos?" she squeaked tentatively, furrowing her brow.

"Thou act as if I shall strike thee," Violet joked, tilting her head.

"I fear thee may!"

"Thou art as a jester, cos." She let her head fall forward, nearly resting on her own chest. "Verily, then, Juliet," she murmured quiet, almost too faint for her cousin to hear.

Blinking, Juliet tilted her own head. "May'st thou repeat, cos?"

"Verily," she said again. "If it will get thee to stop pestering me, Juliet, then verily, I seek romance. But thou shan't seek me at that frivolous gala. The only way that I shall be attending is if Tybalt comes to my room, galloping fast and hard as a great horse, and drags me to the grand ballroom by my cursèd raven locks!" To emphasize the point, she jabbed a finger at her hair to indicate what she was talking about.

"Oh, mine dear cos." Juliet fiddled with Violet's hair, giving a light, airy sigh - delicate, as everything she did was. "Thou must come! If thou doth not attend, I shall die of loneliness and drown in a pool of mine own tears of monotony before the night doth end!"

"Thou art being a bit melodramatic, art thou not?" Violet retorted.

"Well… perhap. Nonetheless, thou must come withal! I will surely be dead of ennui if thou doth not come. Thou would'st not want that?"

"I should suppose not. But there is still the dilemma of the gown. I doth not have any ones suitable to be worn for a ball. Therefore, I suppose I cannot go."

"Oh, cos! Such a situation can be easily mended. Simply borrow one of my gowns. Thy hips art the same width as mine, e'en an thou art slightly taller. I know just the one that would'st look simply lovely on thee. It is a deep red, with many beautiful decorations of gold and black. It would'st do perfectly to bring out thy hair, and thine eyes! Before the ball, I shall brush thine hair, run the silver brush through it many times, until it shines as the starry night sky! Twill be an ebony-tainted version of the moonlight which reflects off the surface of the calm waters."

"Ay, me, Juliet!" Violet, who had a naturally placid, quiet disposition, threw her hands up in frustration. She could tell she had lost this battle to her more becoming cousin. "Fine, then! I shall go! Wilt that make thee happy?"

"Aye! Aye, grammercy!" Juliet clapped her hands gleefully. "I shall have the gown ready for thee before the ball on the eve of the next morrow. I shall first fashion thy hair to be as handsome as it can be, and then I shall help thee into thy gown." She stood up, and skipped to the doorway.

"Soft! Juliet!"

The brunette turned around, smiling at her cousin. "Aye?"

"What exactly was Aunt discoursing to you earlier?"

"Oh." Juliet's face became slightly sad, but she waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Mother wishes for me to marry a courtier by the name of Paris. I told her I would not, and she and Father discoursed to me that I must marry him. I shan't give up without a fight, however. They shall have to throw me to the streets before I marry that man!"

"Thou hast not met him, hast thou?" Violet asked.

"… Nay, I hast not. But, verily, suitors are all the same… they would to marry only for status."

Violet knew her aunt and uncle, and they wouldn't give up so easily. "I send thee good luck in changing _their_ minds, Juliet."

"I thank thee! Adieu, dear cos." Juliet looked like she had something devious in her mind.

"Juliet," Violet practically growled out. "What is thou up to?"

"Aye… naught. Naught, dear cos. Adieu!" Juliet hurried out.

Violet sighed, then called after her cousin, "I shall see thee anon, good cos!"

She spread herself out on the bed again, closing her eyes.

If she met a good young man, she would be sure to keep away from Juliet while dancing with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**WOW HOLY SWEET FRIGGING CAPULET MONTAGUE FEUD! I can't believe I got a – positive awesome WONDERFUL – review less than an hour after I posted the first chapter! *glomp* I LOVE MY AWESOME REVIEWERS!**

**So here's the next chapter for youuuuu!**

"Ready, Violet?"

"I am ready as I shall ever be."

"Very well. One, two…"

"Just do it!"

"Alright, three!" Juliet pulled on the strings of her cousin's red-and-black corset.

"Ah!" Violet gasped for her breath. The corset was squeezing her very lungs and ribs! "Nay, Juliet! I canst not breathe!"

"Unh!" Juliet wiped her forehead of the perspiration that had formed, taking in a fairly deep breath of her own. "How dost thou expect to have a man be able to span thy waist with his hands if thou wilt not let me pull the corset tight as it may go?"

"I doth not care if a man can span my waist with his hands!" Violet hissed, tossing her bangs out of her eyes. "I have no desire at all to wear a corset," she commented bitterly, looking at the corset with disdain. As if it were the fault of the corset itself that it was an instrument designed to cut off a woman's supply of air.

Juliet chuckled. "Ah, but thou must wear one! Otherwise, thou wilt appear… unbecoming."

Violet gestured to her chest. "_This_ will appear unbecoming? A woman's bosom shall never appear unbecoming to a man! Men art lusty pigs!"

"Oh, cos." Juliet ran a hand through her cousin's now sleek, glossy black hair. "Not all men's intentions are ill."

"That may be true," Violet admitted, "but there is only one thing all men want. Physical love."

"How canst thou say such a thing, Violet? Many of the world's men want nothing but a hand to hold in their own, a wit to match theirs, a shoulder to turn to when the world heaps upon their plate more than they can handle! Many men are not after that physical manifestation of love… but merely a companion, someone to laugh with and to cry with, who will stand by them in good times or in bad."

Violet attempted to straighten up, only to find that it hurt terribly, worse than any pain she'd ever experienced. Oh, well, she'd just have to get used to it; Juliet wouldn't let her go without a corset. "I have yet to meet a man such as that, Juliet. The men thou speak'st of… I fear they are only a fantasy and do not exist at all. Show me one man such as that tonight, and I shan't say any more on the matter."

"Doth not preoccupy thyself with false anxieties, cos," Juliet cautioned, tying up the last string on the elegant corset. "Thou shalt find a good man this night! One that I have spoken of. I promise thee so!"

Violet rolled her eyes. "Doth not hold thy breath for that, Juliet. If thou dost, thou wilt suffocate in the little air thou hast left."

Juliet, who was already dressed for the ball, sighed. "Thou art far too much of a cynic, dear cos. Hast thou no faith in humanity?"

"If any, I hath not much. Let me discourse it this way, dear cos – I hath as much chance of trusting humanity as dear Nurse has of not intoxicating herself on the Sabbath."

Both girls had a good laugh at that. "I shall go get thy gown," Juliet said, as she ventured into her vast wardrobe. She came back with a beautiful gown – red, gold, and black, as she'd described it to Violet, so elegant. "Is it not simply breathtaking, Violet?"

"I must admit – it is quite a gown, cos. I adore it."

"Good! I shall help thee into it, and then, we shall go downstairs for the ball, and we _shall_ have a good time, or else—"

"What wilt thou do, cos? Answer me this."

"Naught. It is of no importance what I _shall_ do – but it shan't be pleasant, I can assure thee of that."

"Of course it wilt not be. Thou art thyself!"

"Mock me, then, if thee will." Juliet pulled the dress over Violet's head, and Violet wriggled her head out. "Thou look'st lovely, cos – stunning."

"I doth not feel lovely or stunning."

"Come, now!" Pleasantly, Juliet marched out of the room and down the stairs with her cousin in tow, passing Tybalt on the way. "Hello, dear cos!" Juliet cried as they passed.

"Where art thou taking my sister, cos?"

"She didst not desire to go to the gala, but I persuaded her to. She wears my gown. Dost thou approve, Cos Tybalt?"

"Taketh her. I wilt be down in a matter of minutes with mine own companion for the eve."

"Cos Tybalt has a courtier?" Juliet asked, suddenly interested and abandoning her idea of taking Violet to the ball.

"Juliet! Thou become sidetracked far too easily!" Violet shook Juliet's shoulder. "Come! We shall see thee anon, good brother."

"Fare thee well, sister."

Violet pulled Juliet along. "Dost thou think that thy parents art hither?"

"Aye, Mother said they would be."

Violet stood against the wall. "Thou may go and dance, if it is thy will. I shall stay here and wait for a man to ask me."

"Thou art no amusement at all, Violet!" Juliet took her hand and tried to pull her onto the floor. "Come, my cos! Carouse with me!"

"Nay." Violet kept herself close to the wall of the ballroom. "I shan't dance unless someone asks me to."

Juliet sighed, but shook her head. "Thou truly hath no bone for excitement in thine entire body! Well, then, fare the well."

"I shall see thee anon, good cos."

After a moment, a young man came up to her and introduced himself as Romeo. She introduced herself as Violet Capulet, cousin of Juliet, and soon, he got the message that she wasn't very talkative, and left.

As Violet stared out at the dance floor, she rubbed her arm. She wasn't a very good dancer, anyway. As Lady Capulet said, she had two left feet.

-xxx-

"Come, Romeo!" Mercutio slapped his friend on the back. "Thou cares not for dancing and carousing all night?"

"Surely not _all_ night, Mercutio," he replied, looking around.

Mercutio rolled his eyes, and surveyed the ballroom, searching for a fairly good-looking girl to dance with. At last, he spotted a very pretty young girl, standing on the wall shyly. Her long ebony hair hung slightly past her waist, straight and glistening. Her bright emerald eyes stood out against her considerably pale skin. Her ethereal gown, in hues of dark red, grinning gold, and pitch black, clung tightly to her torso and flowed down into a swirling, sailing skirt. He found her to be one of the most beautiful girls at the ball, if not the most beautiful.

"Romeo," he whispered, elbowing his friend. "Avert thine eyes to yonder fair maiden."

Romeo looked at the girl. "Ah, that be the cos of dear Juliet."

"What be her name? Dost thou know?"

"Her name be Violet… Violet… ah! I am at a loss for her surname, but her first be Violet."

"Lovely. Shall I go woo her?"

"It doth not matter what I say, Mercutio; thou shall do as thee would whether I offer mine opinion or not."

"Ah, thou art correct, of course, friend Romeo. I shall go discourse to her that I would to dance with her. Thou shalt see, Romeo, thou shalt see! By the time this night doth die, I shall steal a touch from her lips with mine own. What dost thou think of that?"

Rolling his eyes, Romeo crossed his arms. "I think that thou is far too confident in thine abilities, Mercutio."

"Ah, but I have reason to be! Well, friend Romeo, I resolve to make her mine, so I fear I must bid thee adieu. I shall attempt to meet with thee and the other when it is the time to head for home, but I may be traversing to fair maid's home instead!"

"Ay." Another eye roll from Mercutio's companion, as he looked around the room himself. "Thou art too vulgar, Mercutio. Lust not, and therein thou shall find true love."

"I doth not lust! I merely seek amusement with good company."

"Good company of a female," Romeo retorted, hiding a snicker behind his hand.

"Thou wounds me with thy words, Romeo. I bid thee a good night!" he called as he walks off to talk to the girl.

Romeo shook his head. "I give thee good luck in drawing _her_ into the dance, good Mercutio."

…

…

**I thank God I've never had to, but I sure feel sorry for anybody out there who's ever had to wear a corset… I've heard they suck. Real bad.**

**Here's a pic of the dress (not my picture):**

**media(dot)photobucket(dot)com/image/dress%20black%?o=17 Just imagine it with gold instead of blue and gold swirly designs on the black part.**

**Hope you enjoyed! I'll have the next one out soon!**

**- Ai-chan ^^**


	3. Chapter 3

Violet pulled absently at a loose thread on the sleeve of her borrowed gown. The Romeo fellow was good-looking enough, but he was more of a silent, awkward young lad; while she herself was more like that, she didn't want a dancing partner that said nothing to her. She desired a more fiery partner, one who would laugh and tell her jokes, spin her around and sweep her off her feet.

But no one as that had yet come along.

Out of the blue, a young man came up to her. He had slightly spiked, short brown hair, and sparkling azure eyes. He was smiling, holding out a hand to her. "Good e'en to thee, most fair young maiden," he greeted, bowing to her. "How goes thy night?"

She nodded to him. "Well met, my friend."

"Would'st thou care to take my hand and allow me a dance?"

Violet looked the young man up and down. He was handsome enough, though a mask hid his face from her. His eyes, however, as blue as the sky, shone through the mask. His spiky hair was slightly curled, giving the locks some degree of wave. "I… would prefer to simply stay here and stand against the wall hither."

"Ah, well." He leaned against the wall beside her, tossing his hair. "I shall stand with thee, then."

Did she hear that right? Violet glanced at him, trying to decipher some clue in his eyes to suggest any hint of deception or seduction, but she couldn't tell. "What would thou would to stay here with me?"

"I find thee quite captivating, Miss Violet."

"Aye, well, perhaps, then - soft!" She sent a glare in his direction. "I didst not tell thee my name. How dost thou know me?"

A grin split his face. "My lover **(1)** Romeo wrought that information to me."

"Romeo. He doth told thee my surname, as well?"

"Nay, he could'st not retain that information! Dost thou trust me enough with that knowledge, good Violet?"

She offered a slight smile. "'Tis Capulet. My name be Violet Capulet, I am ten and six years of age, and my brother be named Tybalt."

"He hath a name that likely provokes much laughter in a quiet room," the man grinned.

Violet allowed herself a slight titter. When she really thought about it, Tybalt's name did sound quite funny. "Aye, thou art correct in thy mockery, bold young man. Might I possess the knowledge of thy name, boorish bard?"

"Surely, thou doth not find me as a bard! Denying that I am rather boorish, however, would prompt taunting as to my honesty. I am ten and nine years. I am known by a great gallery of names - bold, brash, knave, great man of the swords-"

"Thou art omitting 'humble'," Violet interrupted.

At this, the young man's face tinged slightly pink as he rubbed his head, as if she'd slapped him. "Aye, and a jester am I, too. I go by the name Mercutio to friends and foes alike."

"Mercutio," Violet repeated. Deciding that she liked the way it came off her tongue, she nodded in approval. "I must admit, I adore the tone of it. Hast thou siblings to speak of?"

"Aye, a brother," he answered, sounding resentful. "His name be Valentine."

"His name hath the tone of romance."

"His name hath the tone of a weak man."

She giggled; even though it was a bit inappropriate, she found it quite funny. "Thou should'st not mock thy house, good Mercutio."

"Ah, he doth not take offense against what I say, Violet - he dare not! And regardless, he hath a pleasurable disposition… unlike myself, Mother and Father tell me."

She nodded. "Ah, well, I find thy company fairly enjoyable, Mercutio."

The minstrels began to play a jaunty tune, and Violet smiled, for she knew the song. "Ah, I simply adore this song."

"I might know it."

Violet tapped her foot in rhythm to the music, and Mercutio must have noticed, for he grinned again. "Ah! Might thou would to share a dance now?"

She shook her head. "Nay, not to this tune."

"Ah. Then I shall be content to stand here and listen to it with thee."

"Thou hath liberty to do as thee would."

Mercutio leaned his head against the wall, and the next thing Violet knew, his warm fingers were enveloping her cold hand. She made no complaint, for the affection was welcome and comfortable. She allowed him to hold her hand in his, and very lightly curled her fingers around his; not much as to give him the wrong idea, but enough to let him know his gesture was appreciated.

And the minstrels sang.

"_Sing we a song that takes but a minute_

_Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la_

_Once round the clock and that is the limit_

_Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la_

_Start with one, two, three_

_Sung in harmony_

_Fa-la-la-la_

_La-la-la_

_Then it's four, five, six_

_Only thirty more ticks_

_Does this song_

_Make any sense_?…"

Everyone, Mercutio and Violet included, laughed, and Violet had to admit, she liked the look of Mercutio's face when he laughed.

"_Sing we a song that takes but a minute_

_Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la_

_Once round the clock and that is the limit_

_Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la_

_Singing seven, eight, nine_

_With a pressing deadline_

_Fa-la-la-la_

_La-la-la_

_Fifteen seconds to go_

_Now I hope you know_

_We must finish_

_This song on time_

_Now that we've sung_

_For most of a minute_

_Fa-la-la-la-la_

_La-la-la-la-la_

_We're tired of singing_

_This song, we admit it_

_Fa-la-la-la-la_

_La-la-la-la-la_…"

Again, more laughter, and this time, Mercutio looked over at Violet, and gave her a warm smile as he laughed.

"_Now we sing this final_

_Fa la_…"

Pause, and the singers looked at the clock, then gasped and hurried to finish the song.

"_Fa-la-la-la-la_

_La-la-la-la_!"

The entire room exploded with applause, some people doubling over with more laughter. Violet perused the room for her brother, and found him with a most unusual expression upon his face - a smile. He was with a young blonde woman, who was quite pretty, and she was laughing at the minstrels, patting Tybalt on the arm, most likely encouraging him to find the humor in it, and he was trying to please her.

One of the bards began to play a softer, slower melody. Mercutio squeezed Violet's hand and glanced over at her. "I would'st not suppose thee would desire to dance with me now?"

She smiled, and put one hand on his shoulder. "Carry me across the floor, good Mercutio. I put my body in thy capable hands. Do not do anything thou would'st be ashamed to admit to."

"With all the pleasure in the world, I shall bear thee across the marble floors of thy home." Putting his free hand around her waist, he tightened his grip on her hand, but not enough to hurt her. He moved gracefully, though his demeanor wouldn't suggest that he was capable of it. He was light on his feet, weaving skillfully around other people. One thing Violet found amusing was the fact that nobody was dancing except for them.

"Thou art a most adept dancer, Mercutio."

"I thank thee. Is this a good speed for thee? I am not moving too fast, am I?"

"Thou art doing wonderfully."

Then came the request that made Violet practically melt against him:

"I prithee tell if I ever begin to bruise thy beautiful body, Violet. I shall let go on the spot."

**(1) Lover is Shakespeare speak for "good friend". XD I laughed when I saw it too, go ahead and laugh.**


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